THE JOY OF WRITING
Eye have a spelling chequer
It came with my pea see
It plainly marques four my review
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.
I Strike a key and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait away.
As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose be fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
Its rare lea ever wrong.
Eye have run this poem threw it
I am shore your pleased two no
Its letter perfect awl the weigh
My chequer tolled me sew.
--Sauce unknown
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